


Cellphormers: Tarn & Phonma

by AsYouCommand (OminousHummingObelisk)



Series: Kibble & Bits & Bits & Bits [1]
Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: (Disturbing?) Variations on a Theme of Coffeeshop AU, Cellphormers, Literal objectification, Object-Owner Relationship, Other, Public Orgasm, Sapient Object, Slavery, dubcon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-03
Updated: 2017-07-03
Packaged: 2018-11-22 19:32:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11386899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OminousHummingObelisk/pseuds/AsYouCommand
Summary: In which a certain medi-jet is instead a sparked cellphone, completely at the mercy of his evil Decepticon owner and that dastardly charging cable.





	Cellphormers: Tarn & Phonma

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt from a thread that has since been deleted; source vagued out in case the people involved would rather not be associated with this. Details can be restored if contacted.
>
>> thinking about an au where pharma is a tiny phone-former, the size of a cybertronian smartphone. he can be charged in phone mode or robot mode, the usb port is where his valve would be. tarn plugs in the usb cable to charge his battery and as the charge gets higher, pharma makes cute little moans and squirms if he’s in robot mode *w* and when the charge reaches 100%, he overloads~

I’m imagining Tarn relaxing in a Cyber-Starbucks, lurking near a wall outlet as one does, casually reading a datapad and enjoying the music for an hour or so… Suddenly, there’s a tiny “AAAAANNNNHHHH!” from the nearby windowsill, which was the only non-floor place that he could park his phone. Ah, good, it’s all done charging. Tarn had nearly drained the poor thing to blackout earlier while hunting List members on social media.

He unplugs the dazed Phonma (glancing around in the hope that nobody’s noticed the warm pool of phone-fluid that it left on the sill), taps through the security screen, and browses through his email while Phonma makes soft, spent noises against his hand. Damn, still no emails from the brilliant, handsome, perfectly perfect Lord Megatron - not that there have been any for a million years or so, but a mech can dream. The tank can’t stay sane without checking his email about every fifteen minutes - if Megatron ever did send him a note, he’d want to catch it the second it hit his inbox or he’d never forgive himself. 

Tarn sips his ener-latte through a straw and logs onto the Big Conversation, where he dives back into several debates over Decepticon literature and philosophy. Phonma squirms a little, wanting that massaging touch over more of his screen area, as Tarn writes long paragraphs with only his thumbclaws tapping over the cellphormer’s sturdy display. 

Tarn uses his phone hard, as on-the-go executives and military commanders tend to do, but Phonma still feels so safe and valued while cradled in those huge, clawed hands. Tarn stares at him for so long every day, pulling all kinds of important information through him, keeping in contact with informers all across the galaxy. It’s flattering to be so useful to him and to hold so much of his regard. Tarn doesn’t like it when Phonma talks to him while he’s working (and he’s almost always working, at all hours), which is probably for the best - Phonma’s afraid that he’d give away how big of a crush he’s had on his user for so long. Better to maintain the illusion of aloofness, at least as much as he can. 

…Phonma hopes that Tarn will keep using him hard for hours now so that he can be plugged back into the wall outlet as soon as possible.


End file.
